We are what we make.
Dear Friend,
I’ve broken this letter into three main sections: on writing; on reading; on living. Happy new year! Here’s to learning from the past to make better choices in the present.
On Writing
I’m afraid that I have things to say that won’t get said. That there needs to be a place for me to drop my thoughts. And if I don’t capture the principle, if I haven’t written it down in a way that is consumable by someone else, that must mean that I don’t know it. And I want to know things, because it lets me feel in control.
I have this sick expectation that I need to write Principles because Ray Dalio wrote Principles. And I need to write dozens of books because Stephen King wrote dozens of books. And I need to have a room full of notecards in my commonplace book because Ryan Holiday has a room full of notecards in his commonplace book.
And I need to compare and compete and be better than and make other people feel small through the tremendous achievement of my existence.
And it’s gross, man.
That just isn’t how it needs to be. I don’t need credit. I don’t need my name to be on the thinking. I just want to have made a thing that might have an impact for one person. And I just want to dedicate myself wholly to a thing and have the thing be the best I could make it.
And the best I can make it will mean iteration and failure. It will mean asking for help. It will mean acknowledging that the best work I can possibly do isn’t my work at all, but some project or product that is larger than the sum of its parts. I’m scared that when I ask for help it won’t come. And I’m getting really, really good at being scared.
Writers write. Creators create. Complainers complain. We are what we make.
And I’d like to make something more than an anxiety and fear riddled mind.
On Reading
A friend just asked me to pick my favorite book from 2022. I responded by reviewing the books I’d read in 2022. A reasonable step. Then I panicked and felt incredible pressure to pick the “real best” book I read last year. This spiraled into a full review of every book I’ve read, catalogued in an awesome app called Goodreads. And, finally, a little summary with blocks like this:
In 2019, I read 11,003 pages over 30 books (average length: 366 pages)
First book finished: The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie
Last book finished: Circe by Madeline MillerFavorite Fiction: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Most Impactful Nonfiction: Unconscious Putting by Dave Stockton
A tidy summary.
I’ve read over 10,000 pages in each of the last five years. I’m incredibly proud of that habit. I love to read and discuss books with friends. I love to feel my brain change. I love having a record of the ideas I’ve interacted with over time.
But the obsessive nature of the record keeping, the nasty little edge that says “hey, look at me, I’m smart… let me prove it to you!”… I don’t love that. In my less anxious moments, I’m not proud of it and I wish it were different.
Here’s the bottom line: we are what we make. We are the sum of the things we see and do.
If I spend my time interacting with ideas and discussing them with friends, digging in and doing the work to build the brain I want, then I’ll get good at interacting with ideas and discussing them with others. My brain will change. And I’ll have the mind I want.
If I spend my time jumping up and down begging for attention, then I’ll contort myself away from the ideas I care about. And I’ll get really good at jumping up and down begging for attention.
One of those paths is much more appealing to me than the other.
On Living
The more I read and study, the more apparent this is to me:
We’re all dealing with the fear of not living up to our own expectations.
I’m not special. I am afraid that I will not live up to my own expectations. It is petrifying. I am horrified. And therefore I am running away. And the more I run the better I get at running. It’s time to stop running and to embrace that I won’t be very good at not running at first. But, lucky for us, skills change over time.
Our bodies and our minds are elastic. What was impossible for us last year can become possible for us next year, if we make it so. And we are those choices. We are the sum of the consequences we unleash on the world. Every choice is a making. Every choice is a little piece of who we are.
Choose wisely. Make the person you want to be. In the community you want to be in.
Salutation
I’ve been meaning to write this for quite some time. I’m glad it finally came to be. I hope you’ll be glad too.
Go forth and make.
Yours,
JT